


Default Settings

by Flavortext



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, just found family, not really - Freeform, nothing is going to be ok until next week and MAYBE not even after then, this could be widomauk if you wanted but, writing this made me cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 03:04:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15282186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flavortext/pseuds/Flavortext
Summary: Mollymauk Tealeaf is gone.There isn't anything he wouldn't do to change that.





	Default Settings

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly need a break from everything so this is barely edited sorry!

None of them want to go near the body. Nott sits down heavily on the ground, draws her legs up to her chest and takes a drink from her flask that doesn’t stop until she has to gasp for breath. When she puts the platinum flask back to her hip her eyes a filled with tears.

Caleb doesn’t know what to do with that- he can’t watch  _ that.  _ But beau looks blank, her fists are so tight the skin on her knuckles is white, and somehow that’s just as bad. Caleb looks at the ground, feels his breath and his body swaying as if its happening underwater. 

Keg is standing over him when he looks up.

“Should I close his eyes?” She bends to a knee next to Mollymauk’s still form. Caleb snaps.

“DON'T TOUCH HIM.” He’s yelling and he doesn’t care. “You did this. You got us into this. You don't  _ touch him.”  _ Caleb’s feet cary him to Molly’s side. Hus coat is splayed out under him, eyes open and red but something is gone from them. 

“ _ Shit. I am-“  _ Caleb chokes on a chuckle. “ _ I am an asshole. I should have left you- you silly brave man.”  _ Caleb bends slowly, sitting on his heels. He cant bring his hand out. He  _ needs  _ to fix this- Beau said he needed to fix things- this, if anything needs fixing, this comes first. 

Caleb jumps a foot in the air when Beau’s hand comes down on his shoulder.

“We don't have Jester.” 

“She didn’t have the components to bring him back anyways.” Caleb’s voice doesn’t sound like his own, it sounds soft and  _ scared.  _ He knows those words aren’t helpful.

_ “ _ He was trying to do that eye thing- he damaged himself, and he went down and that’s  _ Fucker  _ just  _ killed him _ .” Beau’s hand is shaking on his shoulder. Caleb wants to reach out and pat it- that’s what he should do. He stays frozen. 

“We can’t bury him- he wouldn’t want that.” Nott is here now, on Caleb’s left. Beau makes a noise- she’s crying and Caleb feels  _ disgusting.  _

_ “Shit ahit shit”  _ Caleb doesn’t want to cry- these people are  _ nothing-  _ hadn’t he just decided that? This shouldn’t hurt. Caleb tries to stand- to walk away. The message doesn’t get to his muscles, just like the night before. 

“We should close his eyes.” Nott finds Caleb’s hand, takes it all so gently, gives a squeeze. Caleb feels himself nod. 

“He liked you the best.” Beau squeezes his shoulder, dropping down to a crouch as well. Caleb shakes his head but his body listens to him as he reaches out. Thumb and pointer finger over the eyelids, down - he’s still warm - and closed. 

The body in front of them springs upward in a rattling breath, batting away Caleb’s arm and coming to rub at his eyes vigorously. 

“ _ Fuck _ , that hurts more than I thought! Cree-“ The body doesn’t speak with Mollymauk’s accent- it almost sounds in the same realm as Jester’s- and looks over each of their faces with those wide red eyes. “Who the hells are you?” His hand goes to his hip, finds the old scimitar and looks at it quizzically before dropping it to the dirt. “Where’s Cree? Where’s the- who  _ are you?”  _ The man looks more angry than scared.

“Mollymauk- breathe.” Beau tries reaching out but he flinches away. 

“Molly-mauk? Please  _ somebody  _ tell me what’s going on- did it work?” 

“Oh.” Caleb gets a very bad thought. “Oh,  _ Lucien.”  _ The man reacts to that, red eyes snapping onto him. “Oh dear.” Caleb takes a crouched step back, throwing an arm out to cover Nott and Beau. Keg watches from the sidelines but shifts her axe at that- reading the situation and ready to attack. 

“If  _ he’s  _ Lucien- is Molly gone?” Nott has a hand on her crossbow, bolt loaded. Beau’s staff shifts slowly on her shoulder.

“I think that’s about how our luck is going.” Beau spits. 

“I haven’t done anything to you guys- would you all  _ calm down? _ ” Lucien holds his hands up, seemingly unable to use or uninterested in the swords. 

“I take it this isn’t your friend?” Keg takes a step forward, axe fully at the ready now. Lucien’s eyes flicker between them.

“I’m going to guess something went terribly wrong- please, if you can just return me to Cree- she’ll know what to do.” 

“Cree- that was the Tabaxi, right?” Beau looks at Caleb, her tears are leaving dusty streaks on her cheeks, but have mostly stopped now. 

“ _ Yes _ , that’s her, she’s a black one.” Lucien lowers his hands to touch the wound in his stomach. “If any of you could heal this up a bit- I’m barely hanging on.” There is blood coming from the corners of his mouth now that he’s moved, and there’s a sick twist in Caleb’s gut. 

“Keg, get his weapons. And the coat- that’s  _ Mollys.  _ Caleb waves, pushing Nott behind him a little. “Now  _ listen,  _ Lucien. You have taken the place of someone very dear to us- but you are - you being alive means there is a body he can come back to. So you will  _ listen _ to us, or these three,” he waves a finger around at the women. “Will take your fucking head off.” Keg comes in, axe slotting against the side of Lucien’s neck- and he doesn’t resist, slides out of the coat with a furrowed brow, tugs at his loose shirt when he’s free. Keg kicks both swords over to Beau, who hooks them to her belt. 

“The amulet too.” Nott pipes up. Keg looks for moment and with some difficulty slips the chain up past Lucien’s horns. He touches them idly, seemingly surprised by the jewlery. 

“I’ve been up to some rather odd things, I’ve got to imagine.” He studies the silver moon charm, rolling i between his fingers. Caleb puts the necklace on, the weight bumping on his chest next to the one he already wears. 

“Jester - maybe she can restore him?” Beau is starting to lean into Caleb- it takes a few breaths for him to not lean away. 

“Jester isn’t here. We take him with us- we tie him up if we have to.” Caleb ducks to meet Lucien’s gaze. “You are a placeholder for a very... _ magical _ man. Your past does not matter to me. He doesn’t care what you got up to with his body before he got it- he’s done more in the past two years - in the past  _ month -  _ than you will ever know.” Caleb bites his tongue until he tastes blood. It keeps him from saying more, or from checking out completely. He still uses Beau to steady himself somewhat. 

“Where do we go? We can’t follow them- we aren’t strong enough to take them on.” Nott steps out from behind Caleb a little, taking Molly’s coat in a bundle and stuffing it into a side pocket of the haversack. 

“The Furbolg in the woods- she said she was a healer? Maybe she could - I don't know.” Beau shakes her head, still boring holes through Lucien. 

“She might be able to restore- if this was a curse, but I think this is Molly’s ‘default’. I think we would need a Revivify at least- maybe something more.” Caleb desperately summons Frumpkin, still an owl, and sends him with a flick of the finger into Lucien’s lap. Lucien scrambles away, but is met with Keg’s blade. 

“He will not hurt you. He’s to keep you calm.” Frumpkin hoots and hops onto Lucien’s knee, ruffling his feathers. Caleb reaches out and strokes them down, not the same as cat fur but soft still. He does it again feeling his heartbeat a fraction slower.

“Let’s get the horses. Head back, regroup and plan.” Caleb forces himself to his feet, shrugs Beau off his shoulder. She stands too and jumps into action, grabbing Lucien by the bicep and pushing him in the right direction, keg falling in step with her. Nott gives Caleb a look.

“These are our friends,  _ ja?”  _  Caleb tries to smile at her. The gesture doesn’t seem to go through. “We’ll get him back. Mighty  _ Nein  _ to letting good people die. We’ll get him back.” Caleb ruffles her hair and follows after Beau and Keg. Nott finds his fingertip and holds them, trailing. “ _ Ja.  _ Good people.  _ Fix the mess you made.”  _

Beau gets Lucien, who seems sunken into himself, tail swishing quickly from side to side, tied and on the horse, swinging up after him and holding the reigns around him. 

Keg goes to mount up, then pauses.

“I’m not sure- this isn’t our deal. I have to get back at these assholes, more so now, I was starting to like you guys. But I can’t go on some weird brain-shit rescue mission.” She lets the reigns go. Caleb shrugs at her. He feels a scream building at the back of his throat, about how it’s her fault, it’s unfair. He boosts Nott onto the horse and gives her mane a few strokes. 

“Do what you need to. We’ll be back, Shady Creek is next on our list- Molly- Molly’s number one. We can’t do shit unless we have our party back.” Beau pats Lucien on the back. “I’m sure you’re just a  _ stellar _ dude, but you chose the hell of the wrong guy to dick over.” 

“If it’s  _ my  _ understanding, this “Molly” took over  _ my  _ life. It  _ really- _ “ Beau cracks him on the temple, not enough to knock him out again but enough to shit him up for a moment. “Keg- do what you need to do. We’ll see you when this is sorted. Shady Creek Run has a damn storm coming.” Beau spares a thought for Yasha and Fjord and Jester- possibly mere minutes down the road, being wheeled away. She wonders if they saw what happened around the cages. Keg gives a sharp nod, to each of them, and slings her weapons over her shoulders. 

“The Mighty Nein keep track of their own- I respect that. We’ll meet again.” She lights a cigar and breathes through it. “Keep sharp out there- there might be more people, working for them.” They each assent to that, and Keg turns in her rusty armor and starts back along the path, over the blood splatters and splintered wood, headed North.

“I’m really  _ unwilling _ to have my whole brain- swapped with some other man? If you think I’m just going to sit by and-“ Beau knocks Lucien out this time, slumping him against the front of the horse and digging a heel into its side. Caleb takes the now free third horse, settling his thigh against Jester’s shield, and spurs them forward. 

 

They come to the forest late, pace slowed as Lucien’s body kept slipping. A few times he came too, but besides a few curses in what they assume is Infernal, he doesn’t try anything. They ride up to an unlit campfire, silent for the moment. 

“We need help!” Beau shouts, swinging off the horse and dragging Lucien to the ground with her. The door to the little hovel swings open, the boy with the old woman sheltering him. 

“Our friend is dead- there’s an imposter in his head but we need  _ him _ back.” Beau pushes Lucien to the ground, foot at the small of his back. He struggles weakly and spits out dirt. The old woman shoos the boy back inside but comes out, cautious. 

“I have uh, you say your friend suddenly became different?” She crouches down by Lucien, inspecting him, touching his face with her long fingers. 

“He died. Then came back, but as - as this. Who he was before.” Beau grinds her foot down a little and Nott has to come up and grab her hand, draw her away a few paces. Lucien sits up, wipes dirt on his shoulder. 

“I can lift a curse, if this is that.” 

“Please,” Is all Caleb can choke out. The woman nods, sensing the urgency, and touches Lucien’s face. There’s a slight glow of magical energy, and Lucien coughs. 

“ _ Fuck-” _ It’s all Caleb needs to hear. He throws his arms around Mollymauk, buries his face in his friends (his  _ friends _ ) chest, and chokes back sobs. There’s a cautious hand rubbing circles on his back, Beau and Nott and the woman are talking, Molly is talking, back in his lilted accent and he must make a joke because Beau laughs, clear as a bell that rouses him out of it. 

“Scared you didn’t I dear?” Molly looks down at Caleb in his arms. 

“ _ Shit,  _ you aren’t allowed to die again. Three ‘Mighty Nein’s’ loses it’s irony. Lucien is a- a dick. Glad you took his place.” Caleb burrows back into Molly’s chest, breathes in the scent of dried blood, past that to get to the fading soap and lavender from their last bath. Someone pulls Molly’s coat out of the pack, and he feels Molly drape it over him. 

“You’re awfully touchy, how am I not dead?” Molly starts thanking the woman, Caleb slowly drags himself away, both missing the contact and hyper-aware of the sweat and blood now clinging to his skin. 

 

“Is that going to happen every time you die?” Nott asks. They’ve moved to sitting in a close circle around the fire, Molly changed into a less ruined shirt, coat loose over his shoulders. His blades are back at his hips. Caleb had peeled away from him gradually, first sitting as close as possible without touching, but now he has Nott sleepily (and somewhat drunkenly) curled into his side, head on his hip, and he watches Molly do more sleight of hand for the little Furbolg child. Beau is helping roast more squirrel for dinner. 

Molly looks up from where he’s drawing cards. “I certainly  _ hope _ not, though it kind of makes me  _ immortal, _ if I can just be brought back over and over?” He shrugs. In his sense of things, he went down, knowing it would be for good, and then woke up with Caleb in his arms and his friends around him. He seems unfazed, or, at least very good at hiding it. Caleb noticed the slight shake when he wiped the rest of the dirt away from his face. He’s glad they didn’t bury him. 

“Fjord’s gonna kill us for not planning that out well enough. Stupid risks.” Beau leans back from the fire.  

“We will not make the same mistake. I say we head to the town, send this one,” Caleb pats Nott on the head, “And Frumpkin in, find our friends, break them free and make a run for it. Then we can send a message to The Gentleman, try and finish this job, maybe get him to send some backup?” Caleb cards his fingers through Frumpkin’s feathers. There’s a few nods from around the circle. A silence stretches out while they eat. 

“Thank you, for not leaving me behind.” Molly says. He’s quiet, staring at the golden blade across his knees. Caleb gnaws at himself with guilt. 

“Of course not. We are- like you said with the circus. We are family.” Molly looks up at him- a look of such gratefulness and trust that makes him nearly sick. “Beau said it first.” He mumbles. Beau splutters. 

“Thank you, really.” Molly stands, scoots to the dirt by Caleb and rests his head on the log he’s sitting on- careful not to get to close or touch. He waves Beau over and she comes, falls against his side and breaths out a long held breath. Nott sleepily reaches a hand across Caleb’s lap and Molly takes it. They sit like that while the last of the nights light fades. 

“We’ll get them back.” Molly says, firmly. He believes it, and even in Caleb theres a cool calm, spreading from his chest into his arms. He takes Molly and Nott’s clasped hands in his own. Beau seems to be asleep in the tieflings side. They split off into their tents as the night gets colder, Molly and Beau, Caleb and Nott. They push the tarps up side by side though, and Molly presses a palm up to the common wall, just as Caleb is drifting fitfully off. He mirrors the motion, gives a slight push, tries to convey everything and nothing all at once. Not grumbles and curls further into his side by Frumpkin’s ball of feathers. They drift off to sleep. 

 

The carts stop, there’s shouting that rouses them from their stupor, beaten and starving. Jester presses her face to the bars, trying to see out past the illusion. She narrates is just barely a whisper, voice cracked. 

“It’s them! Notts on the other cart-no- she doesn't know we’re on this one- Shit! They just got hit with some ice spell. They got the druid though...I can’t see very well.” Jester tumbles over Fjord and Yasha to another corner. “Molly and Beau got the big guy cornered, NO! Jester recoils with a gasp, catches herself on Fjord who winces but holds her steady. She goes back to the bars and is silent for a long time. There’s more yelling, then quieter conversation. She falls to her butt as the carts kick back into motion. “They got Molly. He’s gone.” 

 


End file.
